


Problems Left All Alone

by poisontaster



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Penelope needs a day off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Problems Left All Alone

In the morning, Penelope lets herself sleep until she wakes up. It's her day off; she took deep satisfaction in not setting the alarm. When she does wake up, she lolls and lingers amid the thick blankets and freshly washed sheets. She is wearing her favorite flannel pajamas.

When she finally gets up, Penelope takes her time washing her hair and conditioning it. She does the full shave—armpits, bikini area, and the _whole_ leg, not just the part that shows under her skirts. She brews tea and lounges a while longer in her thick, fuzzy robe. She opens a new bottle of Bath and Body Work's Coconut Lime Verbena lotion and smoothes the silky fluid across her skin, immersing herself in the intense, sweet aroma. She so seldom has time to take care of her skin this way and she grimaces at the sight of her heels, dry and cracking. But. No pouting today; it's not allowed.

Penelope takes her time over her tea. She reads a novel, not the paper. It's Like Water For Chocolate and she quickly gets lost in the lush prose, fingertips of one hand caressing the vee of naked skin where her robe parts over her cleavage. She gets so lost in it, that she has to dress in a rush, so it's fortunate she decided last night what she wanted to wear.

The lavender skirt has a cut pattern of leaves that shows the white underskirt like a foam of lace. Her tank top is simple, but shows the girls—perfectly plumped in her shiny new bra—to their best advantage. Her cardigan is pure angora and feels like a cloud over her practically naked shoulders.

Sleeping late seems to agree with her hair, as well. It's _amazing_ and she rolls it up in two adorable pigtail buns like Kaylee Frye, skewering them with Chinese cloisonné pins with little silk flower buds. She has adorable lavender platforms that match the skirt, but she goes with the white sandals instead.

She worries about traffic, but she manages to make it to her appointment with three minutes to spare, sliding into not-quite rock star parking four spaces down from the store. Penelope's shown to a chair right away and picks a really lovely pearlescent nail polish for her fingernails. For her toes, she picks a more daring dark rose, a shade before red.

When they ask, she lies and tells them that she's an author of children's books. They nod and make admiring noises and Penelope closes her eyes and lets herself imagine stories about a clever pink elephant and her many animal friends.

The woman doing the manicure has strong, clever fingers, soothing the repetitive stress aches from Penelope's fingers and wrists. The woman massaging Penelope's feet is a _goddess_ of touch and if Penelope had any shame, she would've embarrassed herself with the little pleasured moans that come from her mouth at each skillful rub.

After the mani-pedi, she's shown into the locker room and given a chenille robe that smells sweetly of herbs and a pair of sandals. The waiting room has loungers and the servitor brings her a cup of cucumber water to sip while she waits and pages through entertainment magazines. Her masseuse is an enormous, gorgeous man named Gregory. He takes her to the room and shows her where everything's kept before leaving her alone to disrobe. The sheets covering the table are better than the ones she has at home and Penelope melts into them. The room smells pleasantly of the different oils, arrayed in bottles on the glass and bamboo vanity.

When Gregory asks, Penelope picks the lavender to match her skirt. Gregory covers her in a sheet of heated mud first and massages through the thick clay, the heat seeping deep into her bones. Gregory doesn't try to talk much and Penelope's grateful. She doesn't think she could manage much in the way of speech anyway, steadily reduced to a puddle of goo by the blissful pressure of Gregory's enormous, divine hands.

She feels strangely light after the massage, energy humming under her skin. She feels a vague itch to get online, check her emails, if nothing else, but she squashes it firmly. Instead, she goes to the mall and buys herself a couple hundred dollars worth of make-up, hair doodles and really awesome amber pendant on a slinky silver chain that falls right between her breasts. The sandals really were the best choice; her newly painted toes peek out, prettily blushing and she can't stop high-stepping in them, feeling absolutely gorgeous down to her bones.

She has dinner at a steakhouse she knows, savoring every mouthful in a way she can't when it's hastily microwaved take-out scarfed down between marathon sessions in front of the monitors. She doesn't know what it is, whether it's really that great or just her mood, but she can't remember the last time food tasted so good, from the rich savory taste of the meat down to the melting crispness of her baked potato, slathered in a cloud-like dollop of sour cream.

Halfway through the meal, her cell phone chirps. Stomach sinking, she pulls it from her purse and calls up the message, but it's only Morgan: _Hope you had a wonderful day; you were greatly missed. Don't worry, we didn't let Gideon touch anything._ The smile it puts on her face lingers through the rest of the meal and the drive home. She decides not to put on the air, slipping her sweater off and pooling it into the seat next to her while she drives with the windows down and Courtney Love singing soulful sad-girl songs.

At home, Penelope decides to skip pajamas entirely, crawling goose-bumped between sheets that smell as sweetly fresh as when she left them this morning. Moco decides to make an appearance from wherever he's been hiding, silly cat, jumping onto the bed and deigning to settle on the other pillow. She falls asleep with his paw on her head and the smile still on her face.

Tomorrow, she'll be back at work. But at least she had today.


End file.
